


Afloat

by theoreticalpixy



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Daydreaming, Episode 117, F/M, Fjord being in love, Just some expanding and Fjord mooning over Jester, POV Fjord (Critical Role), fill in fic, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticalpixy/pseuds/theoreticalpixy
Summary: "I'll think of that all night"And then he did.
Relationships: Fjord/Jester Lavorre
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Afloat

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just here to write one half orc man being head over heels in love with one little blue tiefling. Enjoy.

He meant it when he said he’d think about it all night.

She didn’t need to spend high spells on his unimportant personal side quest after a long day when she barely had any magic left. Jester didn’t need to check in on him either, but she’d clearly _wanted_ to, and that meant just as much as wasting a spell on him. He was going to think about her lit up amber in the entryhall and snowdappled from travel, just as much as any of it. The curls of hair framing her face, and pulling off mittens to cast Sending, the reveal of blue skin and hand deft as she marked the air.

He thinks she understood too, when he said…not too much, but more than maybe he has been planning. Words that take meaning when the person you care for is in front of you, a strange feeling he isn’t used to, and still feels unmoored by. It’s both easy and full of nerves. Something thrumming in his stomach like butterflies, but when she is right there with him he feels like he isn’t alone. That deep aloneness, the one the Nein has helped, but has hung around him for so long in life that it is like an old friend. A shitty, heavy old friend. That feeling went away around Jester, the light of her casting it out. 

It was that feeling of safety he’d felt again tonight, and that was the feeling he carried as they ate and planned, Fjord taking too many chances to glance at her. Sometimes she would catch him, inevitably smiling, or sometimes making faces at him. Their own joke, one that was definitely not subtle, and he got a suspicious look from Beau after he made Jester giggle by crossing his eyes at her. That meant Cadeuceus had definitely noticed too, and probably Caleb. 

That was ok. He was maybe tired from the long day, and they were all a little shaken from Lucien-not-Molly, but Jester was Jester, and she…well she’d looked hopeful when he’d talked about closing the past and starting something new. 

So drawing attention was fine, it didn’t mean they knew his thoughts.

They start departing for bed and he catches Jester’s hand as she walks ahead of him.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Fjord?” She spins to him, eyes bright.

“I just wanted to say thank you again. You didn’t have to do that, and I should have thought how low on spells you were. We probably should have used it on Essek,” he admits a little sheepishly, “So, really, thank you.”

“It’s no problem!” she smiles and swings their entwined hands. “I wanted to. We can talk to Essek in the morning, besides, who knew he’d be so close? So don’t worry Fjord, I’m glad I helped you.” 

He glances down and smiles soft, “Still.” He looks up to her eyes and there he is again, safe. “Thank you.” He squeezes her hand and it takes a moment before he can let go of her. When he does the slow slide of fingers parting is all he can focus on, and Fjord knows he’ll be thinking of that all night too. What’s one more thing?

Finally they part, one last glance over shoulder as he goes to open his door, and he can hear her humming as she enters her own. Fjord closes his door, and leans back against it, letting out a breath as the day washes over him. He closes his eyes, and gives it a moment before pushing off and pulling off his coat as he makes his way into his bedroom. 

He throws it on the four post, then begins to peel out of layers, unbuckle armor, and kick off his boots. He strips down and it’s a relief not to be bundled, not to be cold. He’s warmed up as they’ve eaten and planned, but there’s something about shedding the layers that almost makes him warmer, like he’s been using up body heat holding it together. The steaming tub in the corner is calling him, and once he’s naked he sinks in with a long exhale. 

This is better, if there was any lingering cold in his toes it’s banished now. He splashes his face too before leaning head back and settling in to soak. This might be the best spell yet. True to form though it’s not long before his mind is back to Jester and her favor. Lucien is troubling territory, but ultimately something worrying isn’t going to help, Sabien is apparently in progress which is better than he could ever have managed on his own, Essek is a question for tomorrow, and the calculations of the Vess problem are best left to a quiet hum while they figured out their options. 

Which leaves Jester.

It is silly, maybe. Focusing on a spell and her smile. Focusing on the things he didn’t say, and the way she leaned in, just a little, like she was waiting for him to say more. The way silence hung for just a moment with a promise he can’t give words to. Not yet. There are certain things he can’t quite say about Jester even though he’s knowing them better by the day.

He thinks about wanting to protect her, but not all the reasons why. He thinks about fondness, and care, and her laughter; he doesn’t think about love. That’s something too bright to admit, bright like her smile, and her eyes, and her nose crinkling in delight. He knows it, but he doesn’t let himself think it. He’s never really been in love before.

Fjord dances around words in his head when it comes to Jester Lavorre and her pastries and dick graffiti and her strength and her want to see good in the world. If he doesn’t then he might have to look and see how far he’s fallen. Fjord keeps telling himself he’s happy as long as she is, as long as she’s near no matter what that means, but he’s getting less sure that’s entirely true. He would be happy, happy for her, and warmed by her presence, but when he’s honest with himself he also wants more than that. 

It’s not just about seeing her smile, although that’s always a wonderful sight, it’s about seeing her smile at him. He wants to be there for her in the ways she tries to hide. He wants to protect her from all the dangers they get caught up in. He wants to take care of her, not because she’s incapable, but because he wants to show her how much he lo-

Sometime around the moment he gets too close to that word again he distracts himself by picking out one of several soap options provided next to the tub and sets to work washing his hair and the rest of him. Determined not to fall back so quickly he gets out of the bathtub as soon as he’s done. It’s all part of a pattern, drift too close and pull away. Fjord busies himself with drying off and getting ready for bed. Tidies up his beard and combs out his hair. It works for awhile. Movement and action push her face further back in his head, and as he pulls a blanket off the four post he almost congratulates himself for getting her out of his head.

Almost.

Fjord climbs into the hammock, it’s the night for it, there’s something in the familiarity he craves after Lucien and Vess and everything. As much as Jester is taking up his conscious thoughts everything else is simmering low in the back of his mind, and he could do with the simplicity of a ship’s hammock. Sure, there was a lot to say for a proper bed, but there was just as much in old habits. As he finally closes his eyes to sleep after the long winding day they’ve had, he sees the face of one particular little blue tiefling. He supposes he didn’t expect anything else.

She’s vivid and smiling like she’s up to something. He’s warm and tired and wonders if he can be forgiven imagining the soft of her lips. Imagining her next to him, not piled in jigsaw pieces like under the dome, but in his arms. The soft curves of her against him, and burying his face in her hair. Maybe her on his chest, tucked into his neck. It’s easy to slip into because he wants it so much. 

He’s tired and warm and in the quiet dark of night, in the alone of his room, he lets himself think of her. So often he doesn’t, but tonight he does, basking in the glow of her, hoping for some future where he can tell her with words and not just the spaces inbetween them. 

He’s tired and warm, and tomorrow he will be cold and alert again, guarded even when he shouldn’t be, even against her sometimes. But she looked at him with all the hope and sweetness he lo-

That he loves her for. 

So he lets himself feel it as he falls asleep thinking of her. Of her in his arms, sleeping beside him. Her curled up close and entwined. Drifting off is easy, and gentle, and when he dreams - something he stopped looking forward to months ago - it’s of Jester, and that he finds is the most welcome dream he could have asked for.


End file.
